Of Psychic Camels, Pink Vikings, and Albino Minjas
by GryphonSentinal
Summary: Complete and perfect randomness! It's the return of a random zebra, Mr. Tumbleweed and our beloved bamfer! R and R please!


**Of Psychic Camels, Pink Vikings, Albino Minjas and Amish Crocodiles**

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any references to any character mentioned, even Mr. Tumbleweed. He belongs to RabidRabbitsRampage, please and thank you.

Three psychic camels looked up from their grazing and wondered where their indestructible mutant gecko friend was. They glanced at each other and went back to digesting, ignoring the cloudy-looking border around the scene.

A black zebra with white stripes snapped awake. He had felt a disturbance while he was meditating in the local monkery. A yellow gorilla who was the lead man prowled over and asked the zebra,

"Have you felt something, Brother Zeouwhehoekenianzabarberaberanhturaro?"

"Yes, Master Artpad. I have felt a disturbance in the Dorks... I saw-"

"Hold it, man. The Dorks as in the odd humans over in America who like to write outrageously ridiculous and ludicrously hilariously crazy fics or the Dorks as in the force field created by all living morons?"

Z thought for a moment, and then said:

"Yes."

"Ah. Continue, my striped sibling in the furred family."

"Wait. We aren't even in the same _Order_. I'm like, perissodactyla and you're like, prismaticia or something."

"That would be just primates, brother in the... Mammal Kingdom!" Master Artpad said, getting irritated.

"I think it's just the mammal class, not kingdom. We both are in the Animalia kingdom, as opposed to the Monera, Prostista, Fungi, or Plantae kingdoms," the zebra sniffed.

"Well, I was just testing you," the yellow primate stammered.

"You are _so_ off, distant member of the mammal class. I am of the chordata phylum, then a member of the perissodactyla order, then finally into the equdae family. Now perissodactyla are the odd-toed ungulates; (I have one toe for each foot, basically.) Geez, do you even know my genus or subgenus?" the striped equdae asked incredulously.

There was a pause.

"Sorry. I never studied that. I was more concerned with the life cycle of the fruit punch."

The zebra sighed, then cracked open a dusty looking volume from nowhere and put on librarian glasses and quoted,

"Family: Equus. Subspecies: _Dolichohippus_. Scientific name: equus quagga. The terminal phalanges of perissodactyla, which is of Equus' class, are flattened or concave on the inner surface so it permits a digitigrade position." The book slammed shut with a resounding 'KABOOOOOOOOOOOM…' and hopped back to the bookshelf to join its family for midday tea.

"Now YOUR order is the primates and you belong to the hominidae family. Generally..."

The gorilla of the hominidae family of the primate order of the mammalian class of the chordate phylum of the animalia kingdom glanced our way and heaved a huge sigh.

Three hours later, Zeouwhehoekenianzabarberaberanhturaro took a breath and shrugged.

"At least we are both animals." The head man looked up from his unconsciousness.

"Huh? Oh, you're done."

"Well, I could tell you more..." the zebra began.

"Okshutup. You said you felt a disturbance in the dorks. I mean, the _D_orks."

"Yes..." the black zebra with white stripes whispered. "I saw... miniature pink Vikings and... albino minjas crowded around our authoress at her computer. I... felt peaceful and cozy and sleepy, then (oh man,) repeated migraines and brain cramps and flashes of black and blue, similar to bruises. My head felt like it was swelling up. Oh, and I saw a midget next to a white tree putting ketchup on it and being thrown off the edge of a high tower by armored guys in weird hairy helmets. I believe our authoress is having some issues. Oh yeah, I heard a faint "Get on with it" chanted over and over in helium-enhanced little girls' voices to the tune of Yankee Doodle."

Master Artpad sprouted a spiral gray horn in the middle of his forehead and was glowing with a white light.

"What? Master Artpad is devolving?" a strange voice called while annoying Safari Zone music began to play.

Master Artpad shrank to the size of a Painted Pony figurine and sprouted polka dots and developed a deep opera voice.

"Congratulations! Your Master Artpad has devolved into a Master Riply!" sounded the odd voice again.

The psychic camels blinked.

"Well," the newly-devolved Riply said. "You've reached-"

Just then a thunder-rat named Pikachu zoomed by, fleeing in terror from a hormone named Petey who had attached himself to the tip of the rat's tail.

"-Enlightenment," finished Master Riply.

"YEAHOOOOOOOOO!!!" howled Labrat, Meatshack, and Bennyboy, three shaggy dogs currently in therapy for some pickle trying to throw them into a fiery furnace. A flame colored cat nearby started chasing a strange masked Barn Owl who was shrieking that he was leader of the Pure White Coats who created a human with an adamantium skeleton with bird genes in it.

"We can't WAIT to tell Shaggier!" the three cried. Shaggier just happened to be their cousin, who was the brother-in-law of Shaggy, Shaggiest's old roommate, who was said to be from another planet named Tibet who had a cool crystal that made them live long. In return, they had to dig a five-by-five foot hole everyday to find a baby fish named Pongo. Shaggiest is currently employed as a mop.

Z...whatever was silent, however.

"Guys, I really felt a disturbance in the Shwarts... I mean, Dorks..."

"Look, fellow animal," Master Riply the itsy-bitsy-teeny-weenie-yellow-polka- dotted-horned gorilla said, "You've reached the Enlightenment Age. You can research new technologies and weaponry. What more do you want?"

A Jamaican bobsled team zipped by as the silence progressed screaming "We are the pirates! Of the Caribbean!"

The gorilla-ine (GASP!) popped open a forbidden Mountain Dew and guzzled it to celebrate someone else's victory. Zwhatever paused,

"To see what our authoress is doing."

"Fine by meeeeee!" chirped Master Riply.

"Wait. Gorillas don't chirp," commented our striped horse-tiger. (For those idiots out there, ancient Geeks I mean Greeks thought a zebra were a cross between a horse and a tiger, a _hippotigris_. Right... Like a tiger and a horse are going to go out to dinner together...)

"Actually, you are right, Horse-of-the-Sun-that-Resembles-a-Tiger." (That would be the Romans' name for them, peeps.) "But! _Weird_ things are going on over here..." muttered Master Riply. "In order to investigate, you need to get to Dorkland swiftly. So you need... Oh, um... A... Oh!" He whistled a sharp note and called "Elf! C'mere!"

A heavily German-accented voice floated in calling, "Coming... Coming!..."

"Ah! Our beloved bamfing blue-furred elf!" exclaimed the zebra-man-in-training. They waited for a few minutes, Ze-nevermind tapping his hoof impatiently. Master Riply scrunched up one eye and roared

"NIGHTCRAWLER! GET YOUR BLUE BUTT OVER HERE!"

"Coming... Coming..."

This continued for a few hours.

A suspicious-looking duo composed of a meerkat and warthog were meanwhile belching out a drug-dealers' song, also known as 'Puff the Magic Dragon.'

Master Riply sighed, then looked at Zeblah and said morosely,

"You'll have to travel by tumbleweed, my friend."

A tumbleweed conveniently rolled up and was blabbering excitedly about a drug bust and a suspicious-looking duo composed of a meerkat and warthog that had been incarcerated for life with bad behavior for serious pollution and inappropriate conduct.

The tails of the psychic camels twitched.

Ze-brap climbed into the thorny transport after shrinking to the size of a king-sized whopper from Burger King.

"Good luck," the yellow mini-gorilla said. "May the shorts be on you."

Our zebra hero quickly checked his rear and sighed with relief. His pink-and-orange plaid shorts were safely on. The tumbleweed tumbled and bumbled away to the Land of Hotdogs, Futbol Americano and Morons, to some known as the United States.

"Well, I'll be seeing you. Thanks for the roll," Zeblah said whence they arrived to the tumbleweed.

"Do I have to wait here?" asked the dry, thorny tumbler.

"Nah, I can get home," replied Z-bloopity. "If you find two other zebras and gallop in sync into the rising sun, you teleport back to where you first were."

"How'd you know that?" Mr. Tumbleweed inquired.

"I read it in a book once."

"Oh, ok. Well, I'd better get home, or else Mrs. Tumbleweed will smack me to Kingdom Come." Mr. Tumbleweed started bouncing away.

Our tiger-horse thought a moment using his oh-so big brain, then called out as his stripes mischievously morphed into spots,

"How do tumbleweeds smack?"

Mr. Tumbleweed bumped into his leg.

"Oh," the adventurer said as Mr. Tumbleweed sighed and hopped away. "That's how." Pondering on what he just discovered for a short moment, he turned the opposite way (which happened to be into a brick wall) and clipped towards the authoress' place. As he was pacing towards the authoress, he came to a crossroad. (He went through the brick wall. It was actually virtual reality Styrofoam.) He came across a Geek I mean Greek-looking hero holding a leash to a six-headed beast with a name tag that stated that his name was Oddball of Terabithia. Four children-vegetables were being led by two small mice, and a company of nine people led by a grizzly-looking wizard with a lightning-bolt on his forehead. The four companies stared at each other for a moment, then finally, Zwho spoke.

"Hi... I'm Zeouwhehoekenianzabarberaberanhturaro, a zebra. Who are you guys?"

The grizzled wizard spoke first.

"I am Merlock, son of Durza. We are on a quest to La Dorada to destroy the One Onion Ring."

A tall man with a tuba on his back carrying a rainbow-colored shield pouted and grumbled,

"I want to eat it. Then I'll be the most powerful man of The Hundred-Acre Wood and all of Never Land will be in peace. Aladdin's teddy bear will be in tatters after I take over his lands and then kill him. But first I need the Onion Ring... mutter..."

A perky-looking squared-ear elf grinned stupidly as he sat on an eight-legged horse.

A dwarf with one arm and one wing who was beside him launched a rocket into a nearby coal mine and snickered evilly.

A midget bearing a delicious-looking onion ring who was being carried on plush-looking pillows by the tuba-whiner and a tall old man sighed and pouted,

"It's so tasty, Friday, so tempting to eat..."

A dark-tanned midget sprang up and ran over.

"Here, Mister Bozo, let me take your empty wineglass and caviar dish for you. I'll poof your pillows some more and I'll give you a back rub, as well. If you want, I can share the load..."

The other whiny pygmy man hissed in a bizarre frenzy and pounced on Friday and beat the stuffing out of him.

While they were scuffling, the Geek I mean Greek hero said,

"Weelll, I'm heading back to Chinatown to take this Hydra to my girlfriend, Belle to win her favor. See ya." The nerdy hero dragged the hissing Hydra away.

A mouse with a nametag that said in flourishing letters "Reepicheep" stared after him and then muttered

"I thought Belle was with the Beast." A young pygmy midget sprang forward and cried "Ewww, a talking mouse!" Then he drop-kicked the poor creature to Kingdom Come to join Mr. Tumbleweed. He didn't make it home in time, it seems.

The other mouse hissed and took out a magic wand and turned the culprit into stone.

The company with the Onion Ring cheered but another midget wailed,

"Poor Peter Piper Parker! He was such a good scientist at growing spider pizzas!" His nametag declared the wailer was named "Happy."

Our zebra-hero (think back loooong ago) shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

The mouse that wasn't drop-kicked finally shook her head and called her other mouse companion on her comlink and whispered "No, dear Reepi, _Beauty_ was with the Beast. Belle is perfectly available, unlike _most_ Disney princesses." She hung up and turned to the rest of the group that wasn't stoned, fighting, or drop-kicked.

"These children are the four main food groups. The oldest is Grain, the second oldest is Veggie, the third oldest is a Fruit (meaning he's a dumb-dumb as well) and the youngest is Dairy. We're on our way to the Sword in the Stone to meet some fat orange tabby cat who will save the universe. Come along now, Children of the Moving Pyramids."

Everyone after that went their separate ways, sparing our zebra friend from telling his dreary and blab story. He trotted towards the authoress' place who was currently staring into the eyes of death. Or just at an Amish crocodile's filed-down fangs.

Actually, not really, since I'm in fact sitting at my computer happily typing away while a random discolored zebra walks (or trots) in his case, on his flattened or concave terminal phalanges on the inner surface in a digitigrades position, towards my own position at my computer happily typing away at my place inside of a fictional story. Got all that? So, really, I'm not really in any sort of danger but-"

"GET ON WITH IT!!!!!" screeched, shrieked, screamed, howled, snarled, hollered, yelled, shouted, roared, and bellowed vindictively pink Vikings, albino minjas (miniature ninjas, peeps,) and now apparently Amish crocodiles into my ear. Ok, maybe I am in peril. But I won't admit it!

"Oh, fine," the authoress sighed. "But you'd better behave yourselves, my characters," she chided. Entering back into reality now...

Zeablobinatiawhatever approached the vast army of miniscule albino minjas, vicious pink Vikings, and crafty Amish crocodiles as they were repeatedly smashing someone's head (namely the authoress') into her computer screen. "Devil Came Down To Georgia" started playing as, in another reality, a Mary Sue by the name of Belinda Maria Anne Rosetta was carted off to the Institute of Mary Sues, escorted by a yellowish bipedal dragon with long, Deathstrike-lookalike claws. Wolverine tackled the dragon, who kicked him with oversized feet in return while smashing at him with a whip-like tail with six blue orbs at the end. The two began duking it out, Wolverine howling that she was a made in Hong Kong version of him, while she was roaring that the authoress drew her, and it was completely coinkidental. Deathstrike herself joined in the fight, screeching the same excuses, and then Wolverine's clone, X-23, hopped in as well.

The psychic camels yawned.

A tan-colored gryphon with dark blue eyes jumped into the air, picked up Z-bra (get it??) and carried him over to the authoress while a weird man in a thong swung on a stalactite nearby, howling to not download his Antarctica as he munched on Luke Skywalker's Lifesaver candy.

Z-mo looked at the authoress while he sprouted three more tails.

It was just as he thought.

Asleep and dreaming on the job. Itty-bitty lower-case M's in shiny bubbles formed over her dozing head, much like a piranha plant in Super Mario. As he was about to blow horn the authoress awake, a cloud of blue sulfur and smoke appeared with a BAMF!!!

"You summoned me?" the fuzzy elf asked with his wicked cool accent.

Instantly the authoress tackled him to the ground, shrieking all the while with joy.

"My blue fuzzy elf is here!!! Oh, FUZZIES, where WERE you??!?!?"

"Good question," muttered Zeouwhehoekenianzabarberaberanhturaro.

The army of mini pink Vikings, albino minjas and Amish crocodiles poofed away along with every other dream-item, seeing how the dreamer is now awake. The authoress was left standing alone, confused and befuddled in an empty computer room.

"Oh, pooh..." she sighed.

Meanwhile...

"So NOW you show up! What the heck took you so long?!?" yelled Z into Kurt's pointed ear. They were back in Tanzania in that funny gray world were dreams reside until dreamed upon.

"Sorry," Kurt mumbled. "I was in surgery."

"Oh. You look pretty good for someone fresh out of OR," scoffed Z.

"No, really!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"What for, hmmm?"

Kurt heaved a groan and grumbled, "Extracting rabid fangirls from me."

The psychic camels ignored the regular straight border around the scene and went back to digesting.

Easter egg: See if you can find all of the spin-offs mentioned! There are quite a few!


End file.
